


Break My Fall

by MachineQueen



Series: Ferdibert Class Swap AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Class Swap AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: Every month, a letter arrived from Aegir. Each contained a reason for Ferdinand to return home.The reasons ranged from pedestrian (‘You need to renew your medical certificates’) to threatening (‘We are contemplating using your old spell books as kindling’) to ridiculous (‘I cannot be expected to function with onlyteabags, you must bring me a proper blend at once!’)Continuation of class swap AU, aka mage!Ferdinand and knight!Hubert
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Ferdibert Class Swap AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059203
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	Break My Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I started trying to build out the world for class swap AU and ended up with...this...
> 
> I hope it's enjoyable? Writing it was quite intense so I hope it's at least exciting to read.
> 
> Please be aware characters die on screen (not Ferdinand, Hubert or any of the main cast)
> 
> It's also Ferdinand centric because I am weak.
> 
> The original oneshot is here: [To Fight Another Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802909)
> 
> clover also drew some excellent art for the original which I will [link again ](https://twitter.com/lovemapotofu/status/1276377016648990720) because I love it so much
> 
> [@MachineQueen4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/works)

Ferdinand gently guided his mare down a wooded track, just outside of Enbarr. He wanted to get as far from civilisation as possible. Most horses - and anything else with blood in its heart - spooked at dark magic. 

Ferdinand had spent years trying to find a horse he could ride into battle. That didn’t mean he was going to give up. A horse would open up new ways to serve Edelgard on the battlefield. 

This city mare was used to busy marketplaces and narrow streets bursting with light and colour. The hope was it would make her adaptable to the harsh chemical smell and the instinct to bolt as soon as Ferdinand cast his spells. 

Ferdinand hadn’t visited the wood in years but he remembered the shady pines and thick grasses. Sometimes he dreamt about them. 

The mare picked through the undergrowth with delicate steps. If he remembered correctly, there was a clearing just ahead. A wide circle of bare earth, where nothing grew. Shattered tree branches lay around the perimeter. Any pines still standing were pocked with unsightly gashes. 

He secured Lacey to one of the broken trees as safely as he could. She nudged him, wondering what fun game they were playing. If she took against him, the trip back to Enbarr would be difficult. But if she didn’t, he would finally have found his horse. 

Lacey took the apple offered to her. He stroked her neck, trying to make sure she was calm. “I want you to remember that I am still Ferdinand, giver of apples and the best head pats in Enbarr. Please understand. I truly do not want to scare you.”

From the saddlebags, he dug out the tome he used when casting. He moved a short distance from Lacey and she followed him with curious eyes. Maybe she hoped for another apple.

“Here we go.”

He closed his eyes and began to murmur. Dark magic liked words. It needed coaxing and flatering. A second of distraction and the spell would become volatile and worthless. Dark magic devoured everything it touched and required the most careful of hands.

Easy in a quiet forest. Near impossible on the battlefield. It wasn’t only horses that were afraid of him.

Ferdinand let the first spell go with a murmur. The miasma drifted gently into the tree line. When he glanced at Lacey, she had her ears pricked as she sniffed the air. The second spell blew the leaves from a bush. Lacey stepped back but didn’t shy away when he reached out to pet her. “You are doing well.”

For the next few minutes, he tried different spells, from tiny poison droplets to explosive bursts of darkness. Lacey disliked the falling tree branches but stilled when he called out to her. Her trusting eyes watched him, instead of the damage he was causing. 

He would have to repeat this until she didn't flinch and shift, gradually work up to sitting in her saddle. But she hadn’t tried to bolt and this was the best outcome he could have hoped for. 

The victory was ruined by a rustle in the undergrowth. Lacey’s ears twitched and she lifted her head towards the sound. A deer? A fox? 

The brown body of a horse. 

Ferdinand clenched his tome hard. “Show yourself!” No response. Ferdinand started to cast, gathering a ball of dense miasma into his hands. “If you do not comply, you will meet the same fate as that tree behind you.” The tree was a leafless, branchless, husk. Not even moss grew on its desolate trunk. 

"Stop! Wait!”

A man rode out, the kind you wouldn’t look at twice if you passed him in the streets of the city. Ferdinand let his spell fizzle out with a gentle command. The man was clutching the reins of his chestnut mare too tight, trying to hide the tremble in his hands. Anyone so afraid couldn't be much of a threat. Ferdinand examined his pale face, sure he'd seen it before. "Did you lose your way in the woods?" Then it clicked. "You are one of Hubert's men, are you not?" 

The stranger's eyes darted left and right. Ferdinand wondered if he was going to gallop off. Ferdinand wouldn’t be able to catch him unless he used magic.

"...I am under orders from Lord Hubert."

Ferdinand laughed. "What, does he think I am plotting sedition in the woods?" 

"He doesn't like us to ask too many questions."

Undoubtedly true. The two of them shared a look of exasperation. Maybe anyone who knew Hubert too long learned the same expression.

Ferdinand tutted. "Never mind. If you came all the way out here, at least join me for lunch."

The spy's name was Benji. He had brought provisions but Ferdinand insisted on sharing his fruit bread. Benji, reluctant at first, became friendlier after a few sweet mouthfuls. "Lord Hubert said he needed to know what you were up to in case there was a risk to Her Majesty."

"I see. What will you tell him?" 

Benji shrugged. "You were training the horse."

"Do you know the danger you put yourself into by coming here?"

Benji hesitated, hands crumbling the last of his bread. “Lord Hubert said you had a temper but-” 

“That is _not_ what I meant. And as if he is one to talk about having a temper!”

For the first time since they’d started speaking, Benji looked interested. “Lord Hubert always seems so still. Do this. Do that. Deliver the package. Talk to this man. The only time I saw him get angry, I think it was ‘cause someone mentioned you. Lord Hubert sure doesn't like dark magic, huh?" 

“Yes. Well. He thinks I will corrupt Edelgard. Or hurt her in some careless way.”

This was despite Edelgard recruiting the Death Knight and starting a holy war, among other things. According to Hubert, Jeritza and the Flame Emperor were necessary. The implication being, of course, Ferdinand was not. After all, they’d drawn up their war plans without him. Plans which did not and would never have a Ferdinand-shaped gap in them.

***

There was a training hall at the rear of the palace. Hubert was practicing strikes on a straw dummy, jabbing the poor thing with fists and elbows. Ferdinand put it out of its misery. A single word dissolved the dummy into a puddle of brown goo. Hubert stumbled. There was no longer anywhere for his next jab to go.

“What do _you_ want? Make it quick,” groused Hubert. He recovered quickly from shock, Ferdinand would give him that. “And I hope you’re going to pay for that.”

“I met a nice young man called Benji this afternoon. We had lunch together after we happened to bump into each other in the woods.”

“I’m terribly delighted you’ve made a new friend but what does this have to do with me?”

“I know he’s your spy.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“Is that it?” asked Ferdinand. “Do you not have anything else to say for yourself?”

“Like what? Do you expect me to apologise for doing my job?”

“No, I expect you to trust me. I swore my oath to Edelgard. Why are you so convinced I will turn against her? My father is shut up in Aegir and even if he was not, I know he is not a good man. I am not half the fool you think I am.”

“I never said I did not trust you. That is your own flawed conclusion.”

"You do not send spies after trusted friends!”

“Did he say he was there to spy on you?” 

“He said he worked for you. If you were not trying to spy, then why send him?”

“The woods are dangerous. They are frequented by bandits and ne’er-do-wells. The last thing we need is someone demanding a ransom.”

“Excuse me? I am perfectly able to protect myself! I can punch you right now if you want to test my abilities.”

“I think I will decline, thank you.”

“This is because of what happened before, isn’t it? I am not some - some damsel for you to rescue just because I made one mistake!”

“Correct. A damsel might actually be grateful for my concern.”

A flash of something in Hubert’s usually level expression made Ferdinand pause. Was that...genuine hurt? Surely not. Ferdinand didn’t think he had the power to upset Hubert. He’d served Edelgard his whole life, shadowing her wherever she went. There had never been room for outsiders.

Unless…?

“Hubert, I beg of you. Please find some other way to care. I do not appreciate being stalked wherever I go.”

“Then what would you prefer?”

“Talk to me. You never want to talk. You always assume. You could just ask me where I am going and for what reason.”

“You would actually tell me?”

“In this case, certainly. I wanted to train Lacey somewhere quiet where my magic could not harm anyone. There should be no reason I cannot become a knight, even with a specialism in dark magic.”

“Fine. Must you go unaccompanied?”

“It is somewhere hidden my teacher used to take me. I think these reports about bandits may have been greatly exaggerated.”

“My staff do not lie.”

“How about this? I will tell you when I am going. Then if I am not back in a couple of hours, you can send someone to rescue me from the dastardly bandit infestation. How about it?”

Hubert stared blankly into middle distance and Ferdinand hid a triumphant smile. Hubert always wore the very same look before making concessions in war council meetings.

“...Very well.”

“We are in agreement, then?”

Ferdinand held out a hand and by some ungoddessly miracle Hubert shook it! For once Ferdinand would leave a meeting with Hubert without needles of frustration pricking his skin.

He was sure it wouldn't last. 

***

Every month, a letter arrived from Aegir. Each contained a reason for Ferdinand to return home. The reasons ranged from the pedestrian (‘You need to renew your medical certificates’) to threatening (‘We are contemplating using your old spell books as kindling’) to ridiculous (‘I cannot be expected to function with only _teabags_ , you must bring me a proper blend at once!’) 

His father’s handwriting grew wilder as time went on. He stopped heading the paper, stopped using the official wax seal. Ink splodges and crossings out grew more frequent. He still signed his letters as Duke Aegir. His elaborate signature never changed. Whether it was denial or defiance, Ferdinand couldn’t say.

_Dear Ferdinand,_

_Your presence is urgently required._

_I grow weaker with each passing day. My jailers will not seek aid for me. I fear I am going to die._

_If you have any affection left in your heart for me, the last surviving member of your family, please come at once._

_Kind regards,_

_Duke Aegir_

To be fair to his father, he hadn’t yet played the ‘I am dying’ card. Ferdinand paced his quarters, trying to decide what to do.

There were duties he needed to complete in Enbarr. Patrol routes, planning, bargaining with local lords for troops while maintaining supply chains. Training Lacey. They were only meant to be here for a short time before returning to Garreg Mach. If he delayed things further with a trip to Aegir, he worried he’d lose the responsibilities he’d worked so hard to gain. 

Admittedly, most of his jobs were busywork. War was much more boring than in stories. Signing a letter didn’t have much heroic glamour to it.

Ferdinand went to see Edelgard, letter tucked into his mage uniform. The palace was so large it took a while to find her. She and Byleth were having tea in the rose garden. Was it his imagination or were they treating this trip more like a holiday than an important wartime endeavour?

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later,” said Edelgard. She raised her eyebrows at Byleth, clearly irritated at the interruption.

“My apologies. I received a worrying letter from my father. I think I must go to him.”

Edelgard took the letter from his flapping hands. Her expression softened as she read. “It is difficult to lose a parent. You should talk to Hubert.”

Ferdinand gaped at her. Was she really suggesting...assassination…?

Edelgard put a hand over her mouth, realising what she’d said. “About going to Aegir.I believe he was planning a trip that way so you could travel together. _Not_ about your father. I will grant you leave and reassign your duties. You must be back in Enbarr the date we intend to return to Garreg Mach.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed. 

“Always with the formalities, Ferdinand,” said Edelgard. Her smile seemed a little sad. “I hope you can make peace with him.”

***

Another person to keep a watch at night, search for firewood and fight off any challengers would be welcome. Even if it was Hubert. Or maybe especially because it was Hubert and despite their ups and downs, Ferdinand trusted him. Even though the feeling was clearly not mutual.

“What business have you got in Aegir?”

“That’s strictly confidential.”

“Where are you going?”

“I cannot tell you. You will need to use Banshee or some other infernal spell to get me to talk.”

“I am not going to _interrogate_ you,” Ferdinand huffed. “Fine. Be secretive.”

“It is for your own safety.”

The journey would be just over a day provided the weather was good and the horses remained willing. As with most horses nowadays, they treated Ferdinand with suspicion. Ferdinand sniffed his hands for the scent of magic. There was none as far as he could tell. 

They stopped at a well worn campsite for travellers. It was hidden from the road with access to running water. Ferdinand circled the camp, looking for possible entry points. River on two sides, thick forest on the other, road at the front. They would be most vulnerable from there. 

He checked the horses. He checked the position of the sun. 

There wouldn’t be much time to spend in Aegir, not if he wanted to rejoin Edelgard before departing for Garreg Mach. And this might be the last time he ever saw his father. 

“Ferdinand! Stop fussing and come and light this fire.”

An easy enough task, though a ‘please’ would have been appreciated.

Hubert took unnecessary delight in shredding branches for kindling. Ferdinand winced at the brutal, efficient snap of each branch before it was tossed to the flames. Knights were not supposed to be so bloodthirsty. 

Count Vestra had been found with a broken neck. 

“I do not suppose you know anything about my father’s poor health?”

Hubert’s fingers stopped on the branches. “If I wanted him dead, he would be dead.”

Ferdinand knew the sensible thing would be to leave the conversation there. But when had Ferdinand ever been sensible? He pressed on.

“Why didn’t you kill my father? Why stop at Count Vestra?”

He watched Hubert’s face in the firelight. As always, it gave away very little.

“I will try and put it in terms you understand. The others betrayed the emperor. My father betrayed _our blood and the reason for its existence_. The price for that betrayal could be nothing less than death. That is the Vestra way.”

Ferdinand stayed quiet. For better or for worse, he understood. The more he got to know Hubert the more sense he made. It should probably trouble him more than it did. 

“Does it disgust you?” Hubert fixed him with a burning stare. “I am not like a knight from your romantic tales.”

“I am not advocating murder but I can understand why. I am not afraid of you.”

“Of course. Your lack of self-preservation instinct is nothing but trouble. If a viper served you tea, you wouldn’t hesitate to drink it. You’d merely complain about the taste as you lay dying.”

“I can be careless but I am not stupid. When I die, it will be with purpose. You will see you are wrong to underestimate me.”

“Go one better. Prove me wrong and live. You are always trying to excel so it should not be difficult for you.”

Ferdinand laughed. “Now you have issued me such a challenge, I shall endeavour to meet it.”

The conversation eased. They talked of the preparations they’d been making in Enbarr until it was time for Ferdinand to set up watch for the night. 

*******

The pine trees were the first sign they were in Aegir territory. The road turned from dark packed dirt to something lighter and dustier. Ferdinand had ridden this stretch of road many times, from seven to seventeen. It was odd to be there with Hubert. 

“I will meet you here at dawn in two days. Do not be late.”

“You are not coming with me? I thought you would want the grand tour!” 

“My business is elsewhere.”

“You really cannot tell me what it is?”

“Ferdinand. Do not waste time asking questions you already know the answer to."

There were Empire officials waiting to welcome Ferdinand at Aegir Manor. They occupied the house and used it as a distribution hub for food and medical supplies. The work should have fallen under his father’s jurisdiction as Duke. Or Ferdinand’s, as his successor. But Edelgard said Aegir wasn’t his concern anymore. 

She could say that all she liked. It didn’t change the way he felt when he walked in. This would always be his home, even if it no longer belonged to him.

His father was limited to the East Wing of the house. It might have been a luxurious prison once. Much of the grandeur had been stripped away to pay for the war. 

“Sir!” The sole remaining housekeeper came to greet him. “The Duke is in his study. He keeps asking for you.”

“I thought he was dying?” Ferdinand said, suspicion clouding his easy smile.

The housekeeper lowered her voice. “He’s gone quite mad. He jumps at shadows, keeps saying they’ve come to kill him.”

“I see.”

Ferdinand’s father had little imagination. He found fault in every story, claiming this or that ‘wasn’t realistic’. Did that mean the threat was real? Or was this guilt? Was he merely expecting Edelgard to cut him down for good?

The study was the only room that vaguely resembled its former self. This was where Ferdinand was told he’d be taught dark magic by an old harridan called Lavinia. She spared no detail telling Ferdinand what a talentless wretch he was. They’d only called a truce after discovering a shared love of Manuela.The tome he carried had been her idea. 

His father had lost weight and all the colour in his face. When he saw Ferdinand, he jumped. Ferdinand set his tea tray on the desk. He knew how to make his father's perfect brew by heart. He hoped it might make conversation more amicable. 

“Ferdinand?”

“I am here. Just as you wanted.”

“You do not _look_ like my son.” Ferdinand’s face heated. He became conscious of his hair, his robes, the tome tucked under his arm like a comfort blanket. 

“ _Them_. Did they replace you? Are you a copy?”

“Father, what are you talking about? Of course it is me.” 

“If you are here to kill me, get it over with. I know I am no longer useful. I did not expect the princess. I did not expect my son to betray me. It was beyond predicting, surely you understand that?”

"I am not here to kill you. You are not well.” Ferdinand reached for his father’s hand. It sat in his limply, like a cold, damp fish. They’d never really had a touchy-feely relationship. “I am here because you wrote me a letter. You told me you were dying. Do you remember that?”

Ferdinand raised his teacup, intending to take a sip. Before he could, his father smacked it away from his hands. Ferdinand jumped as hot liquid fell onto his robes. The cup shattered on the threadbare carpet.

“Poison,” hissed his father. “All the food, all the drink. None of it is safe.”

“I prepared the tea myself.”

“Yes, but they could have slipped in poison when your back was turned. They are everywhere and They are angry with me.”

Ferdinand sighed. Fine. whatever game this was, he would play. 

“Why are ‘they’ angry with you?”

“I promised them you and then you _betrayed_ me.” 

The malice in his tone chilled Ferdinand's blood.“Whatever do you mean?”

“Damn that Hresvelg! She’s taken everything, I have nothing left to bargain with! I need you to take me away from here. Take me back to Enbarr. Lock me in the dungeons. Or the prison cells. Anywhere They won’t be able to find me.”

“I cannot. Such things are not under my jurisdiction.”

“Can you not beg Her Majesty, little lapdog that you are?”

“I do not think so,” said Ferdinand. “Father, I came because I thought you were on your deathbed.”

“I _will_ be dead. You may as well sink the knife in my gut yourself.”

And people called _Ferdinand_ the drama queen! He wasn’t getting anywhere. Then again, what did he expect? His father loved him but didn’t like him. And the feeling was very much mutual. 

A knock at the door. Ferdinand looked to his father but it did not seem as if he was going to answer. Instead he started frantically pulling out the drawers of his desk, searching for something. He muttered something about ‘them’ being here at last. 

The knock grew insistent.

Then a mighty crash. The entire house rattled. And a long, ferocious howl reverberated through the air. Ferdinand stiffened. He hadn’t heard a Demonic Beast for years, but he knew their cries. How could this be? And why now?

A cold thought crept to the forefront of his mind. This was the perfect trap, baited by his father. But who could have set such a thing? Hubert? No. It didn’t marry up. If he wanted Ferdinand dead, he’d had a thousand other opportunities including while they camped the previous night.

He answered the door. The housekeeper frantically wrung her hands. “You have to get out!”

“What’s going on?”

“A monster! In the gardens. The men have gone out but-” Another howl shook the building. One of the paintings in the study crashed to the floor. “It’s going to flatten the manor!”

Ferdinand was not armed. But he had his tome. “I have to go,” he told his father.

“They are here,” said his father, eyes bulging. “You cannot fight them. They will kill you.” 

“This is still my house. And I will defend it.”

His father leaned across the desk, peering at his face. “When you were a boy, I purchased the most expensive stallion. Everyone was afraid of him. He had an awful temper and was prone to kicking. In two days, he was eating from your hand.”

“Father. You must leave.”

“I have something for you.”

His father thrust an envelope at him, stiff and brown with age. Inside was a note and something small and round.

_You will know when the time is right. Your teacher, Lavinia._

Ferdinand sucked in a breath. A Crest Stone, cold and hungry, tipped into his palm. Even through gloves, his blood screamed for it.

“What is it?” asked his father. 

“A weapon. Everything will be fine, but you must go now!”

The former duke nodded. He looked very old and very tired. “I wish,” said his father. “I was not always afraid.”

***

The manor was too remote for the Empire to spare much expense on protection. There were only a handful of guards, none with heavy combat training. 

The front gardens of the manor had once been the pride and joy of Ferdinand’s mother. She loved to receive guests there and listen to them admiring the colourful array of flowers. Some were rare species only found in other parts of Fodlan. All that remained of the plants now was smoke, ash and a gently flickering fire.

Ferdinand narrowly avoided falling chunks of white stone as he emerged from the front door. Smashed glass lined the ground. A short distance beyond that, the Demonic Beast.

It had a serpent’s body and a dragon’s head. Horns jutted out every which way. Teeth the size of swords snapped in the air. Its eyes were lidless, green slits. It tilted its head and Ferdinand could swear it was _looking_ at him. He shivered.

The creature lurched forwards, squashing the handful of attackers with its coiled body. The men might as well have been using cocktail sticks instead of lances for all the damage they were doing.

Another, more familiar figure, steered his horse clear of the strike.

 _Hubert._ What was he doing here?

The sight of Hubert made something click into place. Together, they could fight it. 

Tome ready and mind clear, he cast. Dark spikes were not so easily shrugged away as lances and spears. The beast stopped pursuing Hubert and turned to him instead. Ferdinand avoided a stream of lightning breath by ducking behind an unfortunate sapling. 

He heard the clang of Hubert’s lance against scale and an indignant, serpentine hiss. The strategy was so familiar it went unspoken between the two of them. Hubert would distract. Ferdinand would attack. 

Avoiding the burning ground, he aimed for an eye. If they could blind it, they’d have a better chance. The spell struck. But it didn’t seem to have any effect. The beast coiled itself up, preparing to strike. It was coming for Ferdinand. _Looking_ at him again, eerie intelligence in its eyes.

It swished its powerful tail and Hubert’s horse screamed. Ferdinand didn’t have time to see if Hubert was alive. Lightning sparked on its breath.

Ferdinand curled to protect his head. He clutched his tome tight enough to crumple the pages. He could hear the rasp of the creature’s body on paving, feel its breath as it turned to him. The lightning...he couldn’t take another hit like that. He had to escape somehow. Dodging attacks was a skill he had - but nothing could move faster than lightning.

The Crest Stone sat in his robe pocket, heavy and cold. _Use me. Use me._

The beast prepared its next strike. Ferdinand reached for the stone.

“What are you doing, you fool?”

Hubert. His voice sounded faraway. He couldn’t possibly know what Ferdinand had been intending…

No. For once, he wasn’t talking to Ferdinand. There was another set of hooves against the paving. Vision fuzzy, Ferdinand sat up and took in the newcomer.

The horse was too small. The worn armour was ancient. The lance was engraved with Cichol’s crest. A spare left from the days before the war, when House Aegir had its own cavalry. 

“Father?”

It couldn’t be true. His father, selfish coward, could not be here. He’d always avoided combat at all costs. A skirmish here and there was the extent of his record. He preferred to send someone else to do the fighting.

But if it was an illusion, it was a very solid one. And Hubert could see it too. 

The serpent’s head swerved away from Ferdinand to survey this new threat. Far too intelligent for Ferdinand’s liking. His father drew himself up in the saddle. 

“I am an Aegir and this is my house! I have lost everything because of you! I will _not_ lose my son!”

It was the first time since the fall of the nobility Ferdinand had heard any strength in his voice. The first time Ferdinand had seen him attempt to look like a warrior. And the saddest part was, he didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t trained for this, had no idea what he was up against.

Ferdinand dragged himself to his feet. “Father, don’t!”

There was nothing to be done. The former duke was already urging his horse onwards. All Ferdinand could do now was make sure the sacrifice would not be in vain. He knew this and yet still had to watch the horror of it play out in front of him. 

A single swipe of tail knocked his father’s horse from under him and then a claw pinned him down where he fell. Bones crackled like firewood. The lance stuck fast in one of the beast’s legs, but it didn’t seem to feel it.

Ferdinand simmered with furious rage, letting it build in his throat. His tome flicked open to the page he needed. The spell he intended to use did not need him to say its name. It fed off grief, frustration, anger and gave it a form. 

Magic seeped into the ground and reached for his mother’s wild plants. Vines writhed as the darkness took hold. Each section of the garden became infected. The plants converged on the beast, the whole garden alive to defend the manor beyond. Each of its legs were firmly wrapped and rooted to the ground. The creature screamed, loud enough to make Ferdinand’s ears ring.

Blood dripped from Ferdinand’s nose. He couldn’t carry on like this and at the same time he couldn’t stop. As he approached, the beast continued to scream, eyes wide. Afraid. 

Good.

He gripped his father’s lance. It tried to kick but the plants held it fast. With all his might, he yanked the lance free. Oily dark blood ran down the creature’s side. Ferdinand’s head felt heavy. 

With dwindling strength, he struck. Helplessly caught in the vines, the beast couldn’t escape. Its body began to decompose, crumbling into black dust. He struck again. And again. His face was streaked with blood and tears and he thought of the Crest Stone in his pocket - 

Hubert seized his arms. 

“Stop. You need to stop. You’re going to kill yourself.”

Ferdinand stopped. Hubert was breathless, armour torn. His leg dragged on the ground, injured from where his horse fell on it.

A hiss of Ferdinand’s name brought his attention back to the dead Demonic Beast.

Inside the beast was a person. A shock of white hair, sallow eyes, hands black as night. Ferdinand recognised his old teacher immediately. 

“Lavinia?”

“Oh, Ferdinand. I made you one of us and got _nothing_ in return. All I wanted was to escape the dark. You were supposed to be my ticket.”

Ferdinand heard the words but they didn’t form into anything that made sense. Mostly he felt numb. 

“I do not understand.”

“I suppose not. Poor, poor Ferdinand. I suppose I should not be surprised, given your father sold you. Betrayal runs in the family. Aegir blood, the foulest of p-”.

A lance thrust through her back and she gave a wet, choked gasp. Blood splattered Ferdinand’s cheek. He could see the sharp point of metal protruding from her sackcloth dress. He’d seen this before, so many times but it was different when it was someone you knew. Ferdinand felt his knees give out from underneath him. 

“Hubert.”

“I did not know They were going to attack the manor.”

And somehow Ferdinand knew the _They_ Hubert was talking about and the _They_ his father had been so afraid of were the same.

***

The front of the house was beyond repair. The Empire made preparations to move their supply base. Aegir Manor would stand empty for the first time in centuries and Ferdinand was officially homeless.

The first thing he’d done on waking was stagger to his father’s study. The officials tried to argue with but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out drawers, tipped out files, scanned the pages of cramped writing for names.

_Lavinia. Arundel. Ionious. Count Vestra._

They were all connected. He spent hours rifling through correspondences and refused offers of food and drink. The spell he’d used lingered in his blood and he didn’t feel like feeding it. 

In the end, they sent Hubert. And Hubert hadn’t stopped talking since his arrival. Ferdinand hadn’t even _asked_ and he’d started rambling an explanation.

“My orders were to neutralise a rogue agent. I did not know she was someone you knew. I never intended for you to be in any danger and I did not know the extent of your father’s dealings with her. I certainly never heard of any bargain or deal or- ”

“Sale,” said Ferdinand. He tapped the letters on the desk. “Lavinia helped my father cover up some of his more...dishonourable business agreements. In return, she wanted a pupil. Someone powerful, who’d be close to the emperor. Someone she could control.”

“Foolish of her, really. _Nothing_ controls you.”

“Apart from my loyalty to Edelgard.”

“You could leave,” Hubert’s voice was very quiet. 

“This is the life I wanted. Choosing Edelgard was the first time I really chose for myself.”

“We are close to our goal now. The end of the war draws near.”

“There is something else I must ask. Before his death, my father was afraid. He may have known Lavinia was coming here. What is she and who are _They_?”

Hubert hesitated. “I cannot tell you much. Like your teacher, They use dark magic. I used to think the magic made them what they were. Then I met you. Perhaps I need to rethink my conclusions.”

“That is really all you can tell me?”

“For now. Please be assured I am not withholding information due to lack of trust. It is safer for you not to know. At least let me make some concessions to knightly values and protect you a little longer.”

Ferdinand didn’t know what to say. Before his survival instincts kicked in, he reached out and put his arms around Hubert. It was like hugging a statue at first. But after a few breaths Hubert relaxed and moved a hand to Ferdinand’s shoulder. 

Hubert smelt like coffee and armour polish. They stayed like that for a few long moments in which Ferdinand wondered when Hubert’s presence had become such a comfort to him.

Before they left Aegir, Ferdinand laid the old duke to rest in the family plot. He would never know if his father’s last act had been out of guilt, love or simple madness. Maybe it didn’t matter. It had been something noble and he’d done it for Ferdinand.

His death meant Ferdinand was officially the last Aegir. 

He shed his tears alone. He was his father’s only mourner.

*******

Their return to Enbarr was sombre. It brought Ferdinand no pleasure to make his report to Edelgard. The Crest Stone weighed heavy in his pocket. He knew he should throw it away but he couldn’t quite do it. 

He should have used it to save his father. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. If Edelgard was in danger and it was the only way to save her, it would be his duty to use it.

Ferdinand wasn’t usually the type to go out drinking but he hoped wine might slow his mind. There were plenty of bars in Enbarr willing to let him hide away with a drink. Not exactly a sensible plan, but the best he had. 

All that happened was that he overestimated the amount of alcohol he could consume without losing his sense of direction. He made it back to the palace but it became an impenetrable maze.

The guards paid him little notice as he stumbled around. They were long used to him coming and going at all hours. It took severe mental gymnastics for Ferdinand to try and remember the way back to the room he’d been allocated. All the corridors looked the same - fuzzy, velvety red. 

A piece of rogue carpet tripped him and he fell face first. A dim part of him wondered if it was alarming he couldn’t feel pain. 

“Ferdinand! What are you doing clattering about at this hour?”

Ferdinand could see a pair of pristine riding boots. Bloody Hubert. Why did he always have to find Ferdinand in the midst of misery? He dragged himself to sitting position, only getting tangled in his robes twice.

“I am not clattering about! I fell! Are you not in charge of things like torn carpets? I wish to make a complaint!”

Hubert smirked because it was just like him to find Ferdinand’s predicament hilarious. “You need to go to bed.”

“Do I? Perhaps you should escort me. Else something dreadful might happen to me. I might get kidnapped by bandits, for instance.”

“If bandits are inside the palace, Her Majesty’s guard has done a very poor job. Come on.” Hubert hauled him to his feet. “I doubt you can find the way by yourself in this state.”

“Is this not the guest wing?”

Hubert snorted. He did not provide any further response. But he kept a firm hold on Ferdinand, even when the walls tipped and lurched alarmingly.

“Hubert von Vestra. I have you all worked out.”

“Oh? That I doubt very much.”

“You might pretend otherwise but you _like_ being the big hero coming to save the day. That’s why you are a knight, is it not?”

“Do you have any evidence for such a fool hypothesis or are you just running your mouth like usual?”

“Whenever I turn around it seems like you are there, waiting for me to make another mistake. And you sigh and roll your eyes and patronise and insult but you always save me. Always.”

“Ridiculous,” muttered Hubert. “You are beyond ridiculous.” But there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Ferdinand dared hope he was right.

They staggered around the palace, a two headed beast. Ferdinand thought he heard muffled laughter in their wake but whenever he turned around, the guards were in their stiff backed sentry positions.

Hubert untangled himself from Ferdinand at one of the doors. “Your room key. Where is it?”

Ferdinand checked his pocket. His hand brushed against the Crest Stone and he shivered, violent and full bodied. But there was no key, no cold brush of metal. 

“I cannot find it!”

“For pity’s sake! Come here!”

Hubert shoved his hand into Ferdinand’s robe and felt around his pocket, searching for the key. When his fingers froze, Ferdinand knew he was in trouble. Hubert drew out the Crest Stone in all its unnatural, unsettling glory.

Ferdinand couldn’t read Hubert’s face properly. He held the stone between thumb and forefinger. Stared and stared at the stone, as if he couldn’t believe it was real. “Why do you have this?”

“Father gave it to me. Lavinia left it.”

“And you took it? For pity’s sake Ferdinand. I have never met someone with such low regard for their own life. It is like you are drawn to your own destruction.”

“...No.”

“No? You do not wish to die a mindless beast? Then stop acting like one!” Hubert turned to go, clenching the stone tightly in his fist. Ferdinand grabbed his arm. 

“You cannot just take that, it belongs to me!”

“It is an abomination and I do not want it near Lady Edelgard!”

“Ah, yes. I forgot. You hate everything to do with dark magic, especially anyone who dares cast it. Are you not pleased? If I have to use the thing, you will finally have an excuse to be rid of me!”

Hubert’s expressions gave away nothing. Any earlier merriment had long faded away. He shoved Ferdinand against the wall, pinning his shoulders. The Crest Stone dropped to the ground.

“If you want to die so much, be my guest. There is clearly no point in trying to help you. If you have no interest in surviving this war, I will stop wasting my effort!”

Ferdinand had no doubt Hubert would spit venom if he could. “Do you want me to survive?”

Hubert pressed his lips together in a straight line and let out a deep huff. He released his grip and stared at his hands as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done with them. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I...care about you...and you have been in a worrying mood.” 

The way he dropped his gaze, the way he averted his eyes. What was Ferdinand supposed to do apart from kiss him? When their lips met, the itchy, scratchy feeling of Hubert in his head, in his bones immediately calmed. Hubert’s lips were dry but his mouth had a pleasing shape and Ferdinand _wanted_. And Hubert kissed him back like he wanted him too.

The wall hit his back. Hubert's face was an interesting shade of scarlet, hands fisting his shoulders. "This is...highly inappropriate...”

Ferdinand didn’t move. What had he expected to happen? That Hubert would kiss him as if he were a delicate maiden? Knights fell in love with princesses, not dark mages. Ferdinand was just a chess piece Hubert needed to keep on the board. 

“Are you that drunk? That desperate?” Hubert demanded.

“N-no! You said you cared about me. And I thought...”

Hubert dropped his hands away with a sigh. “Things do not go well for people I care about. You should know that.”

“I do not see how they could get any worse for me.”

“For one, you could use _that_.” Hubert nodded at where the Crest Stone had fallen to the ground.

“I keep thinking I _should_ have used it. I could have saved my father.”

“No. You couldn’t. Because when I found out where you got the stone, I would have killed him. So your conscience is clear.”

“...H-Hubert. You are s-so kind to me.”

“You really are drunk. I will see you in the morning.”

“P-please can you hold me? Just for a moment.”

Hubert’s shoulder was the perfect height for Ferdinand to rest his head on, his arms were the perfect shape to hold him. His fingers were perfect for stroking through his unkempt hair and he didn’t fall when Ferdinand leant against him. And if he felt his shoulder grow damp from tears, he was gentleman enough not to mention it.

After the promised moment was over, Hubert took his hand and kissed the back. Ferdinand wiped his face and searched again for his room key. This time he found it, lodged at an awkward angle in his other pocket.

“One more thing before I go,” said Hubert. He moved his boot over the Crest Stone and ground it into dust. 


End file.
